Stronger
by Gillingham
Summary: Colonel and Mrs Brandon find that life has decided to bless them with offspring. Now complete. :
1. Chapter 1

Christopher was pulled out of his sleep by a sudden jolt of the mattress which he realized was caused by Marianne jumping out of the bed very quickly, rushing over to the waste water bucket by the wash stand. Before he had his wits about him properly he heard her retch as she emptied her stomach into the bucket. He wasted no time rushing to her side, crouching down, supporting her by the shoulders, holding her hair back. The expression on his face was one concern and worry. Her episode with the fever all that time ago had been enough to sensitize him to fearing the worst if there was any sign of ill health. The common cold had kept him awake making sure she did not succumb to that awful fever again. And now she was almost violently sick. And not for the first time recently either.

"Ohh, I'm sorry Christopher…" she muttered quietly as she leaned away from the bucket. She was quite sure the nausea was over now.

"Shh… What's wrong dearest?" he asked quietly as he helped her up to the wash stand. He poured her some water into a glass and into the washbowl. She tidied herself up, splashing her face with the cool water and rinsing her mouth.

"I've no idea. I just suddenly woke up realizing I had to do this…" her voice trailed. They were now looking at each other in the eyes and communicated mutual understanding. It was morning, and she was sick. These symptoms were fresh in their mind from the previous month when Edward had explained Elinor's absence from a luncheon. The Ferrars already had two daughters and these symptoms were well known to them.

Their eyes widened. Christopher could not keep his emotions from showing on his face. He was grinning like a schoolboy while his eyes teared up.

"Oh goodness, Christopher, I hadn't realized it before, but it has been too long since I had my last…monthlies," she said in almost a whisper. They were holding on to each other now, two naked forms now seeking to be even closer to each other. Christopher pulled Marianne to his chest and wrapped his arms around her as if he was not going to let her go ever again.

"I don't know if I dare hope yet, but this would be such a beautiful, amazing news, " it was his turn to almost whisper. As much as he loved their life as it was, he had also been hoping for this moment. To have a child of his own was something he had always wanted provided he would have the right woman by his side. His first love he was forced to give up and the hurt to find out she had had a child by someone else in the end had been grave.

"Marianne, we haven't talked much of children, but I have to tell you now that should we be blessed with a child I would be the happiest of men. And until we met I had given up on ever having even a chance. Just being with you makes me the happiest man on God's earth, but, and I hope you feel the same way, for you to carry my offspring – our offspring – is like being handed an extra blessing and added happiness." He was still holding her close, but had taken her face in his hands by now, lifting her yes at him so she could see how serious he was about this.

Marianne's eyes started to moisten now. She had already understood that Christopher was keen on having a child (or more!), but that his feelings ran this deep she had not quite fully gathered. The raw, deep emotion in his eyes and in his whole demeanour moved her deeply. She did not know what to say and instead she reached up to kiss him on the lips. Then, as they pulled each other into a tight embrace again, she whispered to his ear:

"Christopher, I can think of nothing I would like more than to have children with you. Any child with you for a father will be truly blessed. And to think that there could be new life inside me that you have created with me just fills me with joy and happiness and thought I did not think it possible, I think I love you even more."

For two red blooded individuals who had ever since their wedding night been aware of their mutual physical longing for each other, holding each other's naked forms this close did not go without an effect on both of them. Christopher's hand started to stroke Marianne's back and buttocks, hers doing the same on his.

"Just in case we're not quite there yet, perhaps we could have another moment or two in bed to enhance our chances?" he suggested in that beautiful baritone of his, murmuring into her ear. She was pudding in his hands before he'd even finished the sentence.

The couple, wallowing in the bliss of their closeness and the prospect of starting their own family, were completely unaware of how the servants of Delaford had considered the pregnancy a solid fact for some time already. It had not gone unnoticed by the maids that Mrs Brandon had missed her monthlies or that she had been sick on a few occasions, always recovering quite well soon after. Mrs Brandon's mother had already become concerned at the happy looking couple were not announcing that they were expecting even ore than eight months after their wedding. Mrs Dashwood had raised the question with her housekeeper in conversation, wondering out loud if it could be that her middle daughter and husband (the best of men, of course) were, indeed, having proper relations and if all was well in that respect. Mrs Dashwood could be as prudish as anyone when necessary, but when it came to married women there was more freedom allowed with the speculation.

At the village, one housekeeper had come upon the other and news and gossip ad been exchanged over the vegetable stand and outside the butcher's. When her housekeeper returned from the village, Mrs Dashwood learned that the master and mistress of Delaford were very happy by all accounts and enjoyed the more carnal benefits of marriage most nights, according to what the servants had heard through the walls in the manor. Not that they were eavesdropping, of course. Mrs Dashwood was pleased to hear this. She had had a loving marriage herself and was only sad to have lost that too soon. What she had hoped for her daughters had, naturally, been a good life but also one with a decent, loving husband.

She hadn't really doubted the happiness of Marianne and the Colonel's marriage. She had seen them together so often in various occasions and the two could barely keep from touching each other when within distance, nor keep their eyes off each other when further apart. She had just become a little worried that there was no news of offspring after so many months. Elinor and Edward had announced they were expecting three months after their wedding and naturally Mrs Dashwood assumed her second daughter would in herself pregnant at a similar rate. Mrs Dashwood herself had become pregnant with Elinor practically weeks into her marriage. Having heard the gossip (not that she would ever admit to it being gossip but merely exchange of news) Mrs Dashwood had not been sure whether to be worried or not. On one hand, her daughter had a happy marriage in which she and her husband really enjoyed being together. Then again, on the other hand, if they seemed to enjoy being together at the rate the housekeepers lead her to believe, why was Marianne not carrying?

It was a little bit unfortunate that Mrs Dashwood had not made her roundabout queries just s few weeks later so that she might have learned what the Delaford servants' quarters considered a matter of fact now: Delaford was to expect a new generation of Brandons.


	2. Chapter 2

Christopher was first down for some breakfast. Marianne promised to try and eat something despite feeling a little queasy about eating at all. Christopher found his butler and in a hushed voice instructed him that Dr Williams should be fetched. No, it was not an emergency but when the good doctor had time the Colonel and Mrs Brandon would like a consultation. What Christopher Brandon did not see, however, was the butler's poor attempt at not grinning like Cheshire cat as he turned away find a footman for the job. To the staff, this consultation request could only mean one thing.

Basking in the beautiful surprise of their assumed condition, Christopher found it impossible to concentrate on anything resembling work. All he could think about was the new life his wife was probably carrying, and even if she wasn't the talk they had had, both wanting and hoping for a child. And no one could be a lovelier mother to his children – yes, plural – than Marianne. He could already picture her belly swelling with the baby and he would find her the most beautiful woman on God's earth. Which was curious, as he already found her the most beautiful woman on God's earth and she would be that even more!

Marianne was much the same way. She was supposed to be making plans for the guest and dining arrangements for an upcoming hunt, but all the figures and lists of guests might as well have been written in Chinese. Mrs Dobson, the housekeeper soon noticed this.

"Perhaps Madam would like to do this some other time?" she suggested eventually. Marianne gave a little shy smile in admittance of not concentrating fully.

"Yes, perhaps.. I'm so sorry Mrs Dobson, but my mind seems to be preoccupied today." Marianne explained. Mrs Dobson smiled, not quite able to hide being slightly emotional.

"If you don't mind my prying, is madam expecting?" upon seeing Marianne's surprised expression, Mrs Dobson quickly continued. "Only, I just noticed Madam has been ill in the mornings and Colonel Brandon sent for the doctor today."

Marianne let out a small laugh. Of course the servants would notice these things. And she did not mind Mrs Dobson asking, after all, she had become quite close to the dear woman since she had come to Delaford. Mrs Dobson had taught – and still was teaching – her how to maintain and run a household as large as this. It was up to the lady of the house, after all, to keep tracks on running the house efficiently. Marianne had no intention on disrupting the fine job Mrs Dobson was doing, but she absolutely wanted to learn and know the ins and the outs of it.

"I hope so, Mrs Dobson," Marianne answered. "The Colonel and I have dared to hope so at least, and now I hope the good doctor can confirm this."

"That would be marvellous news indeed, Madam," Mrs Dobson said with a proud smile and moist eyes. "Everyone here at Delaford will be so happy should this be the news, and there is no one we can hope for such happy event as yourself and Colonel Brandon." Mrs Dobson collected the seating plans and menus they were supposed to be reviewing and still smiling made her way out.

Christopher spent his morning with the horses. There were other things to see to in his office, but he just could not concentrate. Working with the horses was something he could do now and it also helped him calm his nerves. His excitement over the possibility of a child surprised himself a little bit. He had from early on in his life dreamed of a family of his own, and now the depth of that desire was becoming clear to him. It was just before lunchtime that he saw a carriage approach the house. One of his footmen was riding ahead of the carriage so this had to be the doctor. This was much earlier than anyone could have expected, but it could not come early enough for Brandon. He went over to greet the doctor.

"Colonel," the doctor greeted Brandon with a polite bow. Brandon reciprocated with a bow.

"Doctor, so very good of you to come. I hope my man did not rush you – I did tell him it was not an emergency."

"Quite alright, Colonel, your man actually found me on the road not too far away from here, I was just going back to the village from a morning call on a patient. Now, what can I do for you, Colonel?"

Brandon guided the doctor to the house. His butler was at the door to receive them and before answering the doctor Brandon instructed his butler.

"We're going to be in my study, would you let Mrs Brandon know that Doctor Williams has arrived?"

Once the two men were in the study and away from too many eager ears to hear their discussion, Brandon felt more at ease with explaining why he had summoned the doctor.

"Mrs Brandon and myself…well… we believe Mrs Brandon may be a child and would very much like to know for certain…" Brandon explained. He was half mumbling his words, not being used to talking about his affairs with anyone except a chosen few. The doctor smiled.

"Yes, I believe we can do an examination. Naturally, if it is very early we can't really tell for certain. But I shall have a talk with Mrs Brandon and we'll take it from there."

As if on cue, Marianne entered the room. She looked a little flustered, but also anxious as she came over to the two men who had stood up to greet her.

"Well, Mrs Brandon, I hope I can answer your questions today" the doctor said with a kind smile after the greetings.

"Thank you, Dr Williams, it would be reassuring to know with certainty what our situation is." Marianne replied.

"Colonel, would you be very offended if I asked you to leave us for a moment so that I may examine Mrs Brandon?" the doctor requested, this being the usual custom, but before Brandon had time to respond, Marianne was already there:

"Oh, please, I know it is probably not very customary for the husband to be in the room during such examination, but Colonel Brandon and myself are both very hopeful regarding the outcome, and we are so very close in all matters - could he not stay with me?"

The doctor looked at Mrs Brandon as she made her plea. The way her eyes sought her husband's and her hand reached out for him to take it, the slight agitation at the thought that he would not be there with her during the examination – all was so easy to read on her face. Dr Williams let a small, kind smile form on his face. There were so many practical marriages in these circles that it was lovely to see a couple that so clearly loved each other over anything or anyone else.

"I'm sure that is fine, if that is your wish, Mrs Brandon. I was merely suggesting it out of custom – so many couples do maintain a…well I can almost say _overly_ modest approach to intimacy between a husband and a wife. I can see you two are very close to each other." The Brandons merely looked each other in the eyes and smiled. The doctor recognized the smile as quiet, private conversation confirming his suspicion about the level of intimacy with this couple.

"Right then, let's start." Dr Williams took over.

After interviewing Marianne about her monthlies and other changes she had noticed recently, Dr Williams examined her physically.

"Well, it is quite early days, but everything would seem to indicate to a pregnancy." He eventually declared.

"You'll not be much further than 6 weeks along and so it'll be some time before you will show. Also, you are still very young and you may just experience some physical anomalies to your natural rhythm, but the morning sickness included I think it is more than likely that you are indeed carrying."

The smiles that lit up the faces of both Colonel and Mrs Brandon were full of joy, happiness and pride. Dr Williams was also smiling.

"Congratulations" the doctor offered, shaking Brandon's hand. The couple thanked the doctor and could not keep from embracing each other. They almost shared an intimate kiss before Brandon remembered the doctor was still in the room. A little flustered and embarrassed by their unrestricted show of emotion the Brandons sat down again.

"Are there any questions you would like to ask at this point?" the doctor helped them back into the customary decorum.

Colonel Brandon clearly had a thought. As did Mrs Brandon. Almost simultaneously Marianne's cheeks blushed and the same shade of red rose along the back of the Colonel's neck and the couple turned to look at each other. The doctor did well not to chuckle out loud seeing as yet again the couple seemed to communicate with out words – and this time even he heard it. He decided to help the couple out.

"You'll probably want to know about, well, being intimate with each other during the pregnancy?"

Both the Colonel and Mrs Brandon whipped their eyes on the doctor who seemed to have read their minds.

"Er… Yes, doctor, this is something I – we – should like to know about," Marianne then admitted.

"It is perfectly alright to carry on as usual as long as it is comfortable. I would advice towards gentleness and caution in the last few weeks." The doctor could see the relief on both their faces. Goodness how refreshing it was to see such a couple, fully committed and invested in each other, in love and drawn to each other at every possible level, also physically. Being a doctor and having seen all manner of relationships, Dr Williams was no prude when it came to the things that went on in the privacy of the marriage bed. There were enough arbitrary rules about public conduct and what was proper between a husband and wife that he firmly believed in allowing husbands and wives to be free and open with each other when possible. On that note, he saw that this couple probably was anxious to talk about what they had learned today.

"Now, there's nothing that needs to be done now. Nature will take its course and in due time you will start showing. Also, the sickness should give away eventually. Why don't I come and see you again in some weeks' time. Let's say a month from now. Should anything come up before that, then naturally you'll send for me."

Colonel and Mrs Brandon later had only vague memory of thanking the doctor and saying goodbye to him. That is how overwhelmed they were by this confirmation to their suspicions. They were expecting. There would be a baby and they would be parents.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the following weeks and months Marianne got over her bouts of nausea just like the doctor predicted. There wasn't a night when Christopher would not caress her abdomen gently, placing kisses on he belly and whisper tender words to their growing child. Or so he pretended. The baby was still so small in there that it was impossible to imagine it, but his words we for Marianne really. Every passing day he found he loved her more. And every passing day he felt the miracle of her loving him back.

Marianne, having gotten over her sickness and being able to eat properly again, found her normal levels of energy again and set about her daily routines and chores as before. In fact, she felt even more energetic than before. She felt wonderful. Today she was going to go to Barton Cottage to visit her mother and sister Margaret. She hadn't seen either in what felt like a long time. Christopher had gone with his gamekeeper to check on his grounds and see that all was as it should for the shoot next week. Marianne had worked out the details with Mrs Dobson and felt confident everything would work beautifully.

Marianne was just ready to go, finishing up a cup of tea she had fancied before the ride in the carriage, when suddenly she felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen. It was so hard that she could do nothing but cry in agony as she clutched her stomach and bent in half like a flick knife. Mrs Dobson heard her mistress' cry and immediately knew all was not well. When she reached the morning room where Mrs Brandon had been, Mrs Dobson found a heaped character on the floor, curled up as if to protect her belly, whimpering in agony. When Mrs Dobson ran closer, she saw how pale Mrs Brandon had become, cold to the touch and all clammy with cold sweat. She couldn't speak but looked at Mrs Dobson with fear and pain in her eyes.

"Mr Michaels! Mr Michaels!" Mrs Dobson called with all she could. She knew the butler was not far as she'd just seen him but a few moments ago.

"My baby…" Marianne whimpered. The pain was excruciating and through the pain she could also tell that something was amiss between her legs. She could feel a frightening warmth spreading.

"Shh, lie still, we'll get help for you.." Mrs Dobson tried to calm Mrs Brandon down. She tried to keep her fears out of her mind, but when she saw the pool of blood beginning to gather on the floor under Mrs Brandon's backside she knew for sure her mistress' fear for her child was not unfounded.

It was mere seconds it took Mr Michaels to run to the room, alerted by the way he was summoned. No one ever shouted like that in this house, which meant something serious was happening.

"Mr Michaels, you have to send for the doctor, immediately. Mrs Brandon is bleeding badly." Mrs Dobson's voice was almost shaking and Mr Michaels could see the fear on her face. With a simple nod Mrs Michaels ran off, summoning some help with little regard to being discreet. This was an emergency and apart from Mrs Brandon who was barely conscious as far as he could tell, there were only servants in the house. Mrs Michaels quickly sent off one rider to fetch Dr Williams and another one to find the colonel somewhere in the grounds. He then returned to the morning room.

"We should carry her to her bed," Mrs Dobson said. Again Mrs Michaels simply nodded. He was a strongly built Northern type and decided he'd be able to pick the slender Mrs Brandon up with no problem and carry her upstairs. Mrs Brandon was now unconscious for certain. Her breathing was shallow and to Mr Michaels she looked like death was not perhaps very far around the corner. As he picked her up Mrs Michaels summoned a maid and ordered more sheets and water to be heated up. She wasn't sure what was going on but it was best to be prepared when the doctor would finally get there.

By the time Perry, one of the footmen, finally had found Colonel Brandon Marianne was on her bed, still suffering from cramps of some sort, regaining her consciousness.

"Christopher…" she whimpered and clutched her abdomen still. Mrs Dobson was very worried: the bleeding had slowed down as far as she could tell, but it had not stopped. She was alone in the bedroom with her mistress and had taken the initiative to reduce her clothing. The doctor would require access and anyhow, her dress, as well as her underwear, was all sodden with blood.

"He'll be here very soon, dear" Mrs Dobson tried to soothe Mrs Brandon.

She was not wrong. Very soon she heard loud noises and the colonel's near frantic voice asking where his wife was. He practically stormed into the room and rushed to the bedside.

"Marianne… Oh Gods, what's wrong…" he nearly whispered now, his face turning pale as he saw how white his wife's face was and he saw the blood on her undergarments and on the extra sheets Mrs Dobson had spread on the bed.

"We've sent for the doctor, sir. Shall I send for her mother as well? Mrs Brandon was just going to visit her before she collapsed."

Colonel Brandon could not answer for a moment. He was still taking in the situation, trying to calm himself down. It would not help anyone if he did not keep his wits about him.

"Yes, yes, send for her mother. And Mrs Ferrars as well – we may need her, too." He then said. He moved closer to Marianne's side and gathered her into his arms. She was out cold again but must still have been in pain, judging by the cold sweat on her brow. Mrs Dobson stepped out and instructed Mr Michaels to send for Mrs Dashwood and Mrs Ferrars, then quickly prepared a bowl of hot water and a cloth and brought it to the bedside. Her husband was now a pair of extra hands so that while she started to undress Mrs Brandon's undergarments as well, he took the cloth and wiped her brow, her cheeks and her chest. The amount of blood was staggering and Mrs Dobson was certain she heard the colonel whimper as well, holding back tears.

They heard commotion from downstairs again. If that was the doctor he had come very quickly. They then heard a female voice. Mrs Dobson and Colonel Brandon looked at each other, sharing the question: who is that? When the door to the bedroom finally opened they realized it was the village midwife. Mrs Dobson sighed with relief – yes, it made perfect sense to have her over. She reminded herself to commend whoever had had the insight to fetch the midwife. She knew the lady, Mrs Crouch, lived much closer to Delaford than the doctor and it wasn't too far fetched to assume Mrs Brandon's condition had something to do with her pregnancy.

Marianne started to come round again, sobbing in pain, whimpering her worry.

"The baby… Christopher…"

"I'm here my love, I'm here… We're looking after you dearest," he did his best to reassure her.

The midwife had taken one look at the amount of blood not just on the covers on the bed but also on the clothing that had not been taken away yet.

"I'm sorry Colonel," she started, looking very seriously the colonel in the eyes, "but there's little doubt that Mrs Brandon is losing the baby."

Brandon could not help the tears from forming in his eyes. They were losing their baby, and his sweet Marianne was in agony.

"What about Mrs Brandon, she seems to be in such pain – will she be alright?" he asked.

"I can't say this isn't serious. How far along are you, two months?"

"Three or so" Brandon answered.

"Yes, the baby is growing, it's not yet big but a size you can see, and therefore the bleeding is very bad. We must try and help the foetus out as soon as possible if she hasn't passed it already. Until that happens, she will continue to bleed.

At that very moment Marianne moaned in agony again and instinctively tried to clutch her mid area again. Brandon tightened his hold around her shoulders again. He was now sitting on the bed behind her, cradling her upper body against him, his arms fully wrapped around her.

"Oh dear God…" he mumbled against the crown of her head. The midwife heard him.

"This looks bad, Colonel, but it's for the better. The cramp should make her pass the foetus." The midwife said.

Suddenly the door opened and Dr Williams barged in. The midwife filled him in and they discussed in low voices for a while and seemed to come to a mutual decision.

"We need some room to work here, so I'm afraid Mrs Dobson, you stay in case we need anything but Colonel, this time I must insist you wait outside." The doctor looked at Brandon and his stare left no room to negotiate. That didn't stop Brandon from trying.

"Marianne, will she be alright?" he asked and desperation and fear were clear in his voice.

"To be honest, I cannot say for sure, but this is serious."

"I don't want to leave her…" Brandon started but the doctor cut him off:

"I promise, Colonel, I will fetch you if there is any change, but I need a little more space and room to concentrate, please."

Reluctantly, Brandon left.

"I'll be just outside." He said, and he doctor acknowledged it with a wave of his hand. He was already standing over Mrs Brandon, full focus on her.

Outside the door Brandon did his best to hold back his tears. This was all too reminiscent of Marianne's fever all those years ago. He had been so afraid of losing her before she was even his to lose! This was as bad as that. No, worse. He was now so familiar with her being near him, sharing his life with her. If something was to happen to her now he did not know how he would carry on.

Brandon was alerted from his thoughts as he heard hurried footsteps approach. He had slumped sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, holding his face in his hands. When he brought his eyes up to see who was approaching he saw Elinor Ferrars, looking very concerned.  
>"My dear Brandon, what is going on?" she asked. There was no one else in the hallway and Elinor simply lowered herself onto the floor next to Brandon. She was pregnant enough not to care whether or not sitting on the floor was proper or not. The discomfort of leaning down or staying on her feet for too long was a more powerful master than etiquette.<p>

"She.. we've… we're losing the baby, Marianne is bleeding badly…" he managed to get out and Elinor saw clearly how much this hurt him.

"She's in there now? With whom?" she insisted. All she knew was that Marianne had collapsed and she had been asked to come over.

"The midwife and the doctor are in there. They wouldn't let me stay, said they needed room to work." He practically sobbed. Elinor felt so very bad for him she put her hand on his forearm.

"Please, Brandon, how is my sister?"

"In pain, conscious only at times. Worried about the baby. But mostly in pain, bleeding badly, oh Miss Elinor, I am so very frightened." He admitted, slipping back to how he used to call her when he first got to know the Dashwood sisters.

"Oh dear God, let her be well…" Elinor whispered her small prayer as she turned on the floor to sit there, leaning against the floor next to the colonel. She looped her arm through his and rested her hand on his forearm again. He placed his other hand on top of hers. They had been in this position together before. It had been one of those times that had sealed their friendship and mutual respect. Her prayer was his prayer as well.


	4. Chapter 4

4-Marianne wakes, needs a bath. Doctor starts to arrange for the maids to do it but C says no. The closeness he shares with his wife is such that he will not pretend in front of anyone to be a stranger to his wife's body. Bath arranged and a very gentle scene is set where the couple come to face their loss together and seek comfort in each other. M talks to her mother and mrs Jennings to learn that a miscarriage is not uncommon and certainly not uncommon when the pregnancy is the first. It's sad, but such is nature.

"It's all my fault, Elinor," Brandon whispered after a little while. He had had a moment to think now.

"What ever do you mean Brandon?" Elinor turned to look at him. How could he think that, had something happened?

"We have carried on with… well… our marital relations even after we learned about the baby. I'm sure now had I not been so selfish as to…" his voice faded. As close as they were as friends, he still found it difficult to form certain private matters into words. Elinor just sighed at first, had a think, then turned to Brandon with an air of determination.

"Let me ask you this, my dear Brandon, did the doctor not discuss this with you?"

Brandon nodded.

"Yes, yes, I know what the doctor said, but…"

"No buts. Also, was my sister not also a party to your time together?" Elinor continued. Brandon gave a reluctant nod to confirm this.

"Then you'll know that what you are thinking is not a likely cause of what has happened." Elinor concluded, and turned back to lean against the wall.

"Brandon… Christopher. These things simply happen. People may not talk about it much, but once a woman enters that mysterious group of people we call mothers you learn things. And one such thing is that losing babies this early on is not uncommon. Especially with young women who expect their first one. The body simply isn't always quite sure of what to do." Elinor was hoping that at least some of this was getting through to her friend. But he looked absolutely miserable and simply sighed, again close to tears.

"But what if something happens to her, what if I lose her?" His question was not pointed specifically at Elinor, she understood that. He was voicing his greatest fear to the universe.

More people then approached the corridor. From the sounds Elinor recognized it was her mother and her husband. Elinor scrambled up and somehow, through his stupor, so did Brandon.

"My dear Brandon, Elinor, what is going on?" Mrs Dashwood asked in her frenzy and worry.

"Mother, the doctor and the midwife are still in there, we should learn from them soon, I'm certain" Elinor took over. Brandon was in no condition to look after anyone but his wife.

"Oh dear, is it the baby?" Mrs Dashwood asked, her eyes searching for Brandon's. He was so dear to her as a son-in-law and even Mrs Dashwood was able to see outside her own worry enough to notice his agony. Brandon nodded.

"And Marianne's bleeding badly," Elinor added. She looked at her husband who had earlier remained downstairs to wait for Mrs Dashwood. Margaret had come too, but Edward had deemed it best to ask her to stay there.

"Mrs Dashwood, may I suggest, under the circumstances, you should sit down until the doctor calls us. Let me escort you downstairs where there is better seating. Elinor will come and get us as soon as it's possible to go see Marianne, won't you Elinor?"

Elinor nodded eagerly. She felt her mother's fear very strongly as well, but to her Brandon was a priority. The man was falling to pieces. She shared the fear, but tried to keep calm. It would not do to give in right now, and it was better to try not to be upset for the sake of her own baby as well. Brandon must have been on her wavelength there:

"Are you alright, Elinor? Should you be up here worrying and caring for others in your condition?"

Elinor let a subdued smile show itself for a moment on her face. That's him, Brandon, he's pulling himself together after that dip, ready to take on the world and looking after everyone else.

"I'm fine, don't worry Christopher. We'll sit tight and take deep breaths and any moment now the doctor will let us know how things are," she reassured him.

And she was not wrong, as the door opened in a matter of minutes.

"Colonel, you can come in now," the doctor said. Elinor looked at the doctor expectantly.

"Yes, you may come in, too, Mrs Ferrars."

Inside, Mrs Dobson was clearing away bloodied sheets and Marianne's clothes. Marianne had been tucked into bed and she was awake. Just.

"How is she, doctor?" Brandon asked as he approached the bed. Marianne looked so tired and fragile he felt needed to pick her up and hold her until she was better again.

"She's weak, but I'm certain she will be fine again. I have seen worse." The doctor explained.

"Yes, I know it looks very bad and she will need time to bounce back, but everything should be alright eventually." Added the midwife.

Elinor watched her brother-in-law swiftly move to the bedside and place himself at the head of it so that he could pull his wife against his chest, circling his strong arms around her to hold her close and to offer her comfort and protection.

"Dearest Marianne, I was so frightened," he half whispered, not caring one bit who was in the room.

"Christoper… the baby…" she started, but her words turned into sobs.

"Shh… my love. I know, I know. But the most important thing is that you are safe, you are alright. I could not bear it if I lost you, Marianne."

"What happens now?" Elinor asked, looking at the doctor and the midwife. Brandon would need to know this too, but was not in a state to ask right now.

"Mrs Brandon will need to rest. After all that bleeding she will need building up a bit, but I don't think there is any reason why she would not make full recovery eventually. She should stay in bed for a while, then, when she feels better start moving around a little bit at a time. I will instruct Mrs Dobson about her diet. And I will come back to check on her tomorrow. We shall take it from there, Mrs Ferrars. For now, all that can be done is to let her rest. There may be some more bleeding in the hours to come, but Mrs Dobson knows this too and will see to the necessities."

Elinor nodded. She was relieved. She wanted to go tell the news to the family downstairs as well, but one look at the husband and wife on the bed, clinging on to each other for comfort, told her she would wait a while longer before she would get her mother upstairs. She exchanged goodbyes with the doctor and the midwife and they made for the door.

"Thank you, both of you," Brandon managed to take notice. He was genuinely grateful, but had hard time giving attention to anything or anyone except Marianne.

"Dearest, Elinor is here also," he then said softly. Elinor came closer to the bed and sat on the side.

"Hello sweetheart, are you still hurting?"

Marianne shook her head weakly.

"I'm just very tired," she managed to say. Elinor reached her hand to her and stroked her cheek lightly.

"I'm so glad. You gave us a bit of a scare." Elinor's reprimand was nothing of the sort as she said the words with the gentlest of smiles on her face.

"Do you want to see mother? And Margaret? They are here also. I promise not to let them stay long. I'll leave you to Christopher's capable hands then."

When Mrs Dashwood and Margaret came up, Brandon left his wife with them for a moment. He wanted a word with Elinor outside the room. Edward was outside as well.

"Thank you," he simply offered.

"I did nothing, I'm just so happy Marianne will recover. I am, however, ever so sorry about the baby. There is very little one can say at a time like this, but I can only hope and wish that once Marianne is alright again, God will bless you again and see you all safe."

Brandon nodded and gave half a smile as his thanks. Edward offered his hand.

"I'm so sorry, my friend. If there is anything I can do to help, you only need to say."

"Thank you, Edward. I hope there is no need to burden you with any more worries. And despite our misfortune with our baby, please do not feel, ever, that you should hide your joy with yours from us."

Elinor could not hold back her sniffle. The sensitivity of this man was unlike anyone she knew. Even her own husband, and Edward was rather well in tune with other people's needs as well. Elinor had indeed had a moment to worry about how her pregnancy and her baby would make her sister feel after that.

"Thank you. Now, I think I should get Mother and Margaret and leave you and Marianne to rest."

The house emptied of visitors, Brandon had made his way back into the bedroom. Marianne was asleep again and Brandon spent a small eternity sitting by the bed, just looking at her. It was getting dark outside as the afternoon started to approach evening and Brandon lit the fire in the room himself. He then rang the bell and went to the door, ready with his instructions when the servant came. He would just like strong tea when Mrs Dobson would bring Mrs Brandon's supper, whatever that was. He would look after Mrs Brandon himself from there on and they were not to be disturbed unless called.

Brandon softly lowered himself onto the bed, as close to Marianne as he could without disturbing her sleep, leaning in a half sitting posture onto the back board, still watching her sleep. This had come too close for comfort. Of course life gave you no guarantees of a happy ever after, but less than a year into their marriage would have been just plain wrong. He had been alone most of his life. An outsider of sorts after his budding love had been crushed so cruelly when he was young. Of course he had grown out of the acute pain of loss over the years, but you cannot love someone and not feel their absence at some level for the rest of your life, he was quite sure of that. If he could still feel the loss of his young love even today, how would he feel if he lost Marianne? What he felt for her was even more potent, stronger and overpowering than what he took for love all those years ago.

Finally she stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

"Christopher," she mumbled, still sleepy.

"I'm here dearest," he said softly and gently gathered her to him again, much like he had held her earlier.

"Are you comfortable there?" he asked. She nodded and allowed herself to melt into his contours. Then she remembered and he heard her breathing change.

"Oh God, our baby, Christopher I'm so sorry…" she started sobbing.  
>"Shhh, shhh! Please love, you must not feel that way." He tried to calm her down.<p>

"But I must have done something wrong." She insisted.

Brandon gathered her into his arms and held her close. It would take all he had to convince his wife she was not to blame for their tragic loss. There would be no little Brandon on his or her way now to make their lives sweeter and richer. This was not a happiness to be bestowed upon them at this time.


	5. Chapter 5

It took Marianne a good week to get back onto her feet. Just a few hours at a time initially, but she was determined to get back to walking condition as soon as possible. Mrs Dobson made sure Marianne ate well and Christopher went out on rides with his wife so she could have a bit of a change of scenery. To get over the loss of the baby was not as easy. While Marianne and Christopher were as happy as can be for Edward and Elinor, Elinor's pregnant form still reminded them of what they almost had.

"Oh Elinor you look so well," Marianne rejoiced when Elinor came to visit them again. Edward had to look after some family affairs in town and Elinor had decided to come and spend a week or two with Marianne and Colonel Brandon while she still could. She had another month and a half to go, but from her belly it was tempting to guess an earlier date.

"I feel fine, too, just so very big!" Elinor replied as the sisters exchanged embraces as greetings. Having both married out of love had done nothing in the way of distancing the siblings from each other, almost the opposite. The girls were very close to each other and promised to remain that way, too. Brandon and Ferrars had also grown a mutual respect and found that they go n very well. Both men appreciated the so-called quiet life and in doing good by stealth and so as long as their dear wives were happy, they were happy.

"But tell me, my dear Marianne, have you recovered fully?" Elinor asked as they sat down to enjoy a refreshing cup of tea in the garden. Marianne sighed. Technically she was getting better. The loss of the child saddened her – and Christopher – still, but having talked to the midwife again and to her own mother, Marianne had started to think of trying again.

"I'm sure I am healing well. Or have fully healed already. But the shock of it all is still so much, I must admit." Marianne replied.

"Yes, you talked to mother about this too, I'm sure, I hadn't known that she lost a child before I was born. And she says she still remembers the disappointment and loss after all these years," Elinor said. Marianne looked a little lost in thought.  
>"Dearest, what is it?" Elinor asked. She could see something was troubling Marianne now. Marianne sighed. She wasn't quite sure how to put this in words.<p>

"Elinor, I have this awful feeling I've let Christopher down."

Elinor said nothing to this. It made no sense at all and she knew straight away there had to be some awful misunderstanding along the way for Marianne to think that. Christopher Brandon would give his own life for Marianne, that is how deeply he loved her, and Elinor could not think what Marianne could possibly do in this life to lose Brandon's good opinion. No, there was something wrong with this assessment.

"I've been feeling quite well lately, and I'm quite drawn to my husband. Well, we've both been quite keen on each other in the privacy of our bedchamber, but now Christopher doesn't seem to want to… well… approach me beyond some embraces. I've started to worry that he stays in our joint bedchamber because that is what we agreed when we first married, but I've let him down, Elinor. He had a chance of a child but my stupid body would not see the baby to term." Marianne explained. She hadn't planned on pouring this on her sister as soon as she came over, but didn't really see how not to, either.

"Oh Marianne! There must be some misunderstanding. Christopher adores you, he worships the ground you stand on and when you were poorly the poor man was besides himself with worry. He thought he was going to lose you."

"I know, I do, but at the same time I swear something has changed," Marianne explained. Yes, she and Christopher still shared their bedroom and they would still seek each other's closeness at the end of each day. Christopher would read to her and then she'd fall asleep in his arms. But a few times now Marianne had thought their closeness might lead to something more, back to the uncomplicated and welcome intimacy that had become such a frequent and important part of their life together. And those few times Christopher had pulled away from her. He had remembered some job he hadn't finished in his library or with the horses and he'd go away not returning until Marianne was soundly asleep.

"Dearest, you must talk of this with your husband openly. Promise me you will do so when you are alone with him and let him explain himself." Elinor advised her sister. There had to be a reasonable explanation to this, and Elinor could not bear to see either party hut. Marianne was her dear sister and Brandon had been a friend like no other to herself and to her own husband.

Colonel Brandon had been in town in business that day, and when he came home the household had already gone to bed. He tried to enter his bedchambers quietly in case Marianne was already asleep, but he needn't have bothered: Marianne was still awake and reading.

"Christopher! I'm so glad you made it home tonight. Elinor has come to visit us while she still feels like she can. You'll see her in the morning." Marianne explained, full of enthusiasm. She knew her husband was always pleased to see Elinor. Christopher smiled warmly and made a crude job of undressing himself. He was tired but retiring to his bed and being near his beautiful wife would make him feel much better. Oh, he would love touch her just so, but he knew he could not do that. They would have to learn a more platonic way of existing together, he could not be so selfish as to put Marianne into such danger again!

As Christopher joined his wife in bed, she almost immediately scooted up close to him to kiss him. Before her miscarriage these evenings had typically ended much the same way most nights regardless of how tired they were: the intimacy they shared was so precious to them both they'd make use of any opportunity to show how tender and loving their feelings were towards each other. Yet now, once again, Christopher seemed happy to hold Marianne close but no more. His kisses were almost platonic and nothing like the more fevered ones so full of the desire he felt for his beautiful wife he used to shower her with before the miscarriage.

"My darling, what have I done wrong?" Marianne then asked in a small voice. Her sister's advice rang fresh in her mind and she knew this could not go on.

Christopher propped himself up on his elbow. This was one of his fears coming true: Marianne was not entirely happy with their relations of late.

"Please, my love, you have done nothing wrong. What ever could make you suspect that?"

"I…am I not beautiful to you anymore?" she asked.

"You are everything to me, my love, you know that. Without you I am nothing, I have no purpose…" he tried to explain, but she needed to hear more.

"Then why do you no longer want me, Christopher? Why do you turn me away? I know I must be a disappointment to you for not being able to carry our child, but I have talked to the midwife and other women and they assure me that we should not lose hope, that many women have the same trouble with their first one." Marianne's plea was quite emotional by the end of her outburst and Christopher had sat up on the bed, leaning his face in his hands. Oh dear God, Marianne had it all wrong.

"No, my love, it's not that at all, you must believe me" he then turned back to her, taking her hand and looking at her in the eyes.

"Then why do you no longer wish to touch me like a husband would?" she pleaded with tears forming in her eyes.

Christopher did not know how to put it in words. He took a deep sigh, started to form words, changed his mind and took another deep breath.

"What if it happens again? And what if it happens but something happens to you?" it was his eyes filling with tears now. Marianne didn't know what to answer at first. Was there no end to how deeply this man cared for her? He was willing to give up his marital prerogatives because he worried about what would happen to her if she got pregnant again?

"Oh Christopher!" was all Marianne could manage, then she launched herself at him, draping herself around his neck.

"I promise you, Christopher, my dearest, I feel fine now. I know there was a lot of blood then, but there has been no more for a long time now, and I've regained my strength fully. I can walk my usual walks again and carry on with my usual activities and chores. And like I said, I have talked to other women about these things and apparently losing your baby is not uncommon. This was the first time my body tried to cope with such an operation and not everything went perfectly, but there is no reason to worry that this would be repeated. Or at least I hope we don't worry about it before we see what happens."

"But I couldn't bear it if something happened to you," he tried to explain again.

"I can't make you do anything, my love, but perhaps make you promise you talk to someone, perhaps Elinor or Edward? You know how much I love you and being with you means the world to me, Christopher. Being together like a husband and a wife should is something so precious to us and something that must have been set by angels themselves for all the joy we've had. If we deny ourselves that, will we not cause a different pain to come forth between us? And if I may ask, I would like us to always be open and honest with ach other. I love you so much and that has come to include the intimacy we have, don't you agree?"

Christopher could not deny his wife. Not to touch her, not to hold her close was hurting him already. But what if he got her pregnant again and things did not work out again? Marianne must have been reading his mind.

"Darling, what if you come off your horse? What if a carriage breaks down on the highway one time? There are so many things that pose a risk every day, and I think all we can do is be brave. Women all around the world have children all the time and I'm sure we can get past our fears and try again. God will grant us his blessing if and when the time is right. We can only try to live with love and honesty." She spoke quite softly now. Having talked to her sister earlier in the day had clarified many things in Marianne's mind, one of them being the trust she had in her husband: he wasn't blaming her but himself and felt it was his responsibility if she became pregnant again and it did not end well.

"How did you become so wise?" he asked quietly. He could hear the sense in her words: they could not really control nature, could they? Their responsibility was to each other and he had promised before God and the congregation the full spectrum of his love and that included the physical manifestation of his feelings. Marianne chuckled at his words.

"Trust me I am not often credited that, but I told you I talked to Elinor today. Perhaps some of hers rubbed off?" Her answer made Christopher smile.

"Your sister does have a healthy dose of good sense at her disposal," he admitted as he made sure his wife was snuggled as close to him as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you, Elinor," Brandon wasted no time in acknowledging how his sister in law had contributed to his marital happiness the day before. Marianne was still getting dressed but as Christopher had come down for breakfast he had found Elinor already there on her own. Well, Elinor and her growing belly. Pregnancy suited the eldest of Dashwood girls and Brandon had no doubt that any children born to the Ferrars would have a good chance in life in every way. They would be well loved and sensibly cared for.

Elinor looked at Colonel Brandon for a moment, not quite sure what the thanks were for. Then it dawned on her.

"Oh, you mean the chat I had with my sister?" Brandon nodded.

"When she told me about it I felt as though I had been in the room with you and benefitted from your good sense," he said, keeping his eyes on her so that she could see he meant every word.

"I know my sister and how she's a little prone to overreaction. But I think I have learned to know you too, a little bit at least, dear Christopher, and I could not help but think that you might be prone to a little bit of overprotection. Which I understand, believe me, but I just hope that in the shock of it all you and my sister would not forget the very thing that makes you two so good together: talking to each other." Elinor explained. Brandon nodded in agreement. In their insecurities they had been in the danger of doing just that.

Soon enough Marianne came down and joined them for Breakfast as well and the day was spent in lighter mood by the sisters watching the Colonel work on some of his younger horses. Later in the day Edward joined them and the two couples enjoyed the evening together. The Brandons noted with warm amusement how Edward fussed over his pregnant wife and thought, although did not mention it aloud, if they too would be that way one day.

When it was time for the Ferrars to leave, the sisters' hearts were filled with sadness: it was not likely that Elinor could easily come to Delaford for a while now as her time was coming near. Marianne would go and see her, but it was probably best to allow her sister some space and peace now – and especially when the baby arrived. Christopher pulled Marianne to his side, holding her tightly against him with one arm around her waist as the Ferrars's carriage pulled away from the house and they waved goodbye. He could feel Marianne's anxiety for Elinor's state and knowing how close the two sisters were he could well understand how closely Marianne was sharing Elinor's excitement. What Elinor was feeling Marianne was feeling in part as well.

Later that night the Brandons reached for each other in their bed.

"Please remember you can take a horse any time to go see Elinor. Or send letters – whatever you need. Alright?"

"Thank you Christopher, we'll see if I can be of help to Elinor and Edward. I don't want to crowd them or to be a distraction. "

"Ferrars is certainly beginning to look every bit the nervous first time father," Christopher chuckled. He was leaning against the head board of the bed with Marianne pulled against his chest with his arms encircling her from behind and his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Poor Edward. But I think he will make a wonderful father."

"I don't doubt that one bit either." Christopher agreed, and kissed the top of Marianne's head. She was stroking his arms gently, enjoying the shear bliss she felt when he held her like this. She thought he needed to know this as well.

"I do so love it when you hold me like this," she said quietly and tilted her head back against his shoulder so she could see him.

Christopher's heart swelled with emotion upon hearing this. He could have lost this had Elinor not helped them see their miscommunication in time. God, he really thought he was doing the right thing by avoiding intimacy with his wife while all he was doing was making her feel inadequate and pushing her away. He could not find the words for what he was feeling right now, but perhaps it was actually better to show Marianne instead, and so Christopher leaned down to kiss her lips, trying to pour in all that he felt for her, all the love and how he needed her.


	7. Chapter 7

In the following months the household at Delaford was happy to see their master stop working crazy hours in his study in the middle of the night and spend the night time in the bedroom with his wife as they had done when they first got married. The couple would lean close to each other and steal little touches and looks from each other and the maids giggled in the laundry room when they changed the couple's bed and emptied the waste bucket in the bedchamber – marital life really was back to normal by all standards. When then one day their master sent for the doctor the staff did not seem at all surprised. They had seen the signs of morning sickness at least on three mornings now.

"Now, in view of what happened last time, I don't want to alarm you but perhaps it would not hurt if you took it easy for at least the first three months now. Just to see that Mrs Brandon feels well and all goes as it should, yes?" the doctor suggested to Brandon as Brandon was walking him out back to his carriage. Brandon did not need to be told – the shock of last time had been such that he had sworn to himself to do nothing that could possibly bring harm to his wife or to his baby.

"She will be wrapped in silk and wool," Brandon replied. The doctor let out a little laugh.

"She's still not made of china. I'm simply saying that for the early part you may want to keep to lighter acts of closeness instead of full…well you know. Maybe not carry on with things like horseback riding and suchlike either. Later, after about three months if she feels well life can be quite normal. Pregnancy is only natural, after all, but with her history we'll just take it easy first to give her body time to come to terms with it all. Goodbye!" The doctor explained and drove off.

Brandon wasted no time getting back to their bedchamber where he'd left Marianne. He found her dressed and sitting on the bed, her face bright and excited. Looking at her joy he could not hold back his own smile either and he dashed over to the bed, pushing his wife onto it, gently pinning her down to kiss her.

"Christopher, I can't quite believe it," she then said.

"I know, dearest. I have to admit, I'm filled with such joy and excitement, but also fear."

They looked at each other in the eyes for a while. This matter had to be addressed and discussed as well.

"Let's take things one day at a time, what do you say?" Marianne suggested, and continued:

"This isn't entirely in our hands and it may be that all we can do is pray. But we've lived through the worse outcome and we can be stronger this time. We've also seen how things can go perfectly well, yes? Elinor and Edward and their beautiful baby girl are doing so well."

Christopher nodded in agreement: all they could do was to take things as they came and hope for the best.

And this time nature seemed to have a better grip on things. Marianne's morning sickness continued for some weeks, but apart from that she felt fine. Christopher made sure Marianne never felt unwanted and she was certainly never left unsatisfied. After a few early protests from her for Christopher not taking things all the way, he explained to her he was not prepared to chance things and this is what he had discussed with the doctor. To Christopher's delight he found that Marianne was equally imaginative in the joys of intimacy with him. One could even say that the couple learned a whole new range of ways of pleasuring each other that when one day they'd feel they could act fully on each other, they would probably reach new heights together.

Christopher also found that every change the pregnancy brought to Marianne's body made him love her more and want her more. It had now been nearly five months. The doctor seemed to be very happy with the way everything was progressing and explained that as all seemed to be well now, there was really no reason to expect anything to go wrong from here either provided that Marianne did not take up mountaineering or steeple chasing. He also explained to Brandon how many women became a little, should he say, restless, by this point and as her husband Brandon should simply accept he had certain duties.

Brandon had noticed this. Their mutual explorations in the privacy of their bedchambers had started to become a little racier and the levels to which he could excite Marianne by the simplest of touches were becoming higher and higher. Not that he minded. Marianne was equally demonstrative to him and some of the things he felt he had never even been able to imagine before. Throughout this pregnancy Brandon had tried to stay at Delaford with Marianne as much as possible, but there were still some occasions he had to go to town in business. Today had been one of those times and he had been to town nearly a week. He missed Marianne and Delaford so much he had taken off from town as soon as he finished his business, even though it meant arriving at home very late in the night. Marianne would be in bed by now, as would all of the household, but all the same, he wanted to get home to her as soon as he could.

As quietly as possible, Brandon climbed upstairs to their bedchambers and still as quietly as possible undressed himself, keeping his gaze on the sleeping form of his beautiful wife. Even through the covers he could see her pregnant form and his heart was filled with such pride and, what, desire? Yes, desire. She looked glorious and inside her was new life that came from the two of them and was a complete miracle to him. He quietly tiptoed to his side of the bed, lifted the covers and slipped under, not having bothered with a night shirt. He needed to feel her against him after all these days apart. To his surprise, he found her without a night gown as well. This made Brandon smile: Marianne had been expecting him home, clearly. He gently sneaked one arm under her head and around her so that he could cup her breast while the other arm went around her hips and waist and cradled he belly gently. God she was beautiful and he could not stop his own body from reacting to it.

At the same time Marianne began to stir from her sleep. She turned herself towards Christopher her eyes still closed but a warm smile spreading on her face.

"Darling, you're back!"

Christopher smiled at her warm joy, but also gasped in excitement as her movement rubbed her backside against his growing excitement.

"Mmm…I see you were expecting me?" he whispered softly into her ear, then immediately let his lips carry on nuzzling and kissing her earlobe and down the side of her neck. Marianne's pregnancy hormones made their desires known and she was ready to go. Grabbing his wrist she guided his hand below her protruding belly and yonder. Christopher's breathing started to take on a heavier weight by this point as he felt where his fingertips were being guided. She then reached behind her and stroked her husband for further encouragement. Christopher was not in any position to deny his wife, and bringing her to her climax by strokes of his hand from the front and by entering her sweet heat from behind as gently as he could, her climax pulled him into his and it felt like the most natural act in the universe.

"We've been invited to a wedding," he then eventually told her when they had taken their time coming down from their beautiful high.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Someone from my old regiment, I can't really refuse. But no one will think ill of you if you decide not to come," he explained. Marianne laughed. Christopher was not keen on such social occasions, but understood his social responsibilities.

"Darling, would you feel better there if I came with you?"

"Well, I would be guaranteed amicable company that way, but like I said, I don't want to make you come. I expect you might know a few people there at least."

"Then I'll come. It's not like we have to stay terribly long, do you think?"

"No. We'll make our acquaintances and wish the newlyweds all the happiness in the world and I'm sure we can head home soon after."

Soon after agreeing on going to the wedding the couple snuggle even closer together and finally allowed sleep to claim them. Before he fell asleep Christopher Brandon made a point of reminding himself not to leave his wife from now on for as long as he had done now. His place was here with her.


	8. Chapter 8

The service had been very traditional but lovely. The couple, Captain Jackson and his bride were both beautiful, fresh-faced blond kids who quite clearly were in love with each other. Almost as soon as they had arrived at the reception, Christopher and Sir John had been pulled away to meet up with all their old chums from their regiment. Marianne saw that there were not many people she knew, but as just about everyone knew Christopher or knew about him, Marianne was easily pulled into conversations where ever she went. She had to hide a smile on more than one occasion when, where upon learning she was Mrs Brandon, a number of ladies could not help themselves but try and find out what Colonel Brandon really was like. Marianne's husband seemed to be, in part, the stuff of legends. A mysterious and heroic man that not man people knew very well but the stories that went around told of honour, loyalty and generosity.

Knowing how her husband valued his privacy Marianne had her work cut out for her in providing polite answers that did not really provide any further insights into Christopher's character. She was, however, happy to make it clear to all the ladies making these enquiries that her husband was, indeed, all these thins and also a loving husband who made her very happy in every way. She was glad the ladies had the manners not to ask about her miscarriage. The point was very sore with her still, and not the least because she was still a good way from delivering her new baby. The few people at the wedding she did know, Mrs Jennings, the Palmers, Sir John and Lady Middleton, also made sure not to approach the topic of her pregnancy. In fact, they almost protected Marianne from any conversation from really even approaching the topic.

Marianne was easily excused from dancing, but after some time the temperature in the house reached such levels that Marianne found herself feeling rather uncomfortable. Her belly was not at full size yet, but it was already considerable and the presence of the baby was something Marianne was beginning to get very aware of most of the time. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do her good, Marianne made her excuses to the group of ladies she had been standing with conversing, and went to look for a window or a balcony. The second room she looked into offered just what she was looking for: glass doors open to an empty balcony overlooking the grounds. Good, she would be able to get some air an cool down in the darkening evening and perhaps not even have to talk to anyone for a bit. She didn't dislike meeting new people and coming out like this, but standing around in this temperature was wearing her out by now. Christopher had said he'd go around and talk to everyone he was expected to but then they could make their excuses as soon as she liked.

Unbeknownst to Marianne, there was one more person at the reception she knew. Only she had not seen him or his wife, the man had made sure of that. John Willoughby had long since married Miss Grey and was financially secure through her assets, but ever since losing his own inheritance and breaking off his acquaintance with the Dashwoods he knew all manner of stories had circulated in the society. Including the one about him seducing a young girl and then abandoning her with a child. It had even become practically common knowledge that the girl had been Colonel Brandon's ward and thus the Colonel had not only rescued the girl, Eliza, from a horrible fate at the poorhouse but had eventually for all purposes rescued Marianne Dashwood from ending up with a man such as Willoughby.

Willoughby had ever since found the circles where he was welcome become smaller and smaller. He and his wife were hardly ever invited anywhere through his connections and it seemed that very often they attended receptions or balls of any sorts only when general propriety demanded that his wife was included. Yes, he had become a man who only existed through his wife. And what existence was that? It was clear to him now that his wife had married him before she had learned of all the events that had lead up to him returning to London to court her again. Or eve if she had heard the stories, she had not been prepared to believe them. She did now. And now she seemed to merely tolerate him. His function was very much to be the consort while she ran the estate and really made all the decision regarding where they visited and whom they socialized with.

Couldn't those people just have kept quiet about things and let him be? Who else would have started to circulate all the stories about him if not the Dashwoods and maybe even Brandon himself? The Middletons and Mrs Jennings were certainly to blame as well, but only Marianne surely knew all the details. Marianne was the one person in a position to ruin him like this and what once had been deep love and admiration for the fresh, beautiful young girl had since turned into dark resentment and bitterness. How dare she. She was a nobody when they met yet he had not held that against her but would happily have married her had that awful Brandon not interfered by drawing attention to Eliza.

"Where have you left your husband?" he asked as he stepped onto the balcony, having made sure there was no one there except Marianne Brandon. His question startled her. She had not heard him enter but still recognized his voice immediately.

"Mr Willoughby, you gave me a fright," she said, trying to calm her breathing down. She had not had to face him after that time in London, and had once or twice wondered what would happen if they were to meet again. During her recovery from her illness and the extended courtship she had with Brandon after that she had thoroughly sobered up from her juvenile infatuation with Willoughby.

During her recovery she had had much time to contemplate on her actions and what had made her behave the way she did and eventually came to one conclusion: childishness. World was not as black and white or as right or wrong as it had seemed then. Same ambitions and emotions could manifest themselves in many different ways in different people, but this was something she had not quite understood then. She had been so sure that only feelings and opinions that were flaunted publicly were genuine ones. How little had she known then. And Willoughby had turned up then, bolstering and confirming her view of the world with his own behaviour and opinions. As if she had needed encouragement.

Marianne had also had time to think about the times she had spent together with Willoughby and realized how never in that time had they really talked of anything of consequence. It had all been self-indulgent romance that excluded and actually ridiculed everyone else. Disrespectful was not strong enough as a word to describe their attitudes towards those around them. She had come to understand that Willoughby really was a man of no substance, only after his own immediate pleasures. She had thought of him seducing a girl of fifteen with no thought to the consequences, and although early on she had been slightly apprehensive of the attentions of her Brandon because of his age, Willoughby had been that much older than her then that there should have been a difference in maturity. He should have known better, but obviously he fancied his fun with girls who were still well in their teens. Christopher had always been very clear about his intentions with courtship: should Marianne be interested, they would take their time, as they did.

"I asked, where have you left your husband? Is he tired of you already?" Willoughby's tone was cold. Marianne couldn't quite believe it. Fine, there was no need to pretend friendship, but why seek her out like this at all?

"I think you should leave me be Mr Willoughby, there can be very little for us to talk about," she replied and turned back away from him.

"Oh you think so, do you? After all you've done to blacken my name while so easily offering yourself to the first man that came along after me you think we have nothing to talk about?" Willoughby grabbed Marianne's wrist and yanked her around again to face him as he spat out his words

Marianne's face betrayed her shock and confusion.

"What do you mean? And let go of me this instance!" she ordered. Had Willoughby gone mad?

"You and your family and your husband have left no opportunity un-used to tell anyone and everyone about Eliza Williams. I'm like a leper now, the man who doesn't exist, the man whose own wife detests him. If only you had left things quiet down, but no, you had to be all high and mighty and make sure I'm ruined. Just because you couldn't handle being rejected by me." Willoughby's mouth spewed the words with such poison Marianne did not know what to do or say. His grip on her wrist was hurting her and she tried to pull free, only main him grip more tightly and shove her to the corner of the balcony.

"Now you're going around flaunting your pregnant belly like being married to that bore Brandon is some sort of a blessing. But I suppose someone like you will be happy for anyone to have taken you on." He continued.

"Someone like me? What on earth are you talking about?" she asked her voice full of confusion.

"You were a nobody. Your family had nothing and you lived in that shack of a cottage like paupers. No wonder you and your sister would throw yourselves at the first passing men that came your way. Well, I guess Brandon feels lucky too to have found someone he can breed heirs with at his age."

Marianne started to regain her spirit by now. Willoughby had gone quite mad or he was simply showing his true nature. Without much thinking Marianne's free hand flew up to Willoughby's cheek, hoping to land a heavy slap. Unfortunately he saw it coming and grabbed her other wrist as well, twisting it hard. Marianne winced with pain and started to get rather scared now. The scandal it would cause if she had to shout for help. Not her fault but she really did not want to ruin the happy couple's wedding day.

"You bitch. You will, from now on, make sure people know I did nothing wrong and we simply parted out of mutual agreement. I will not be and outcast among my peers because of some lowly floosy and a rigid old prude like Brandon…"

Willoughby never quite got to finish his sentence as a strong hand grabbed his shoulder to pull him around and before he had time to respond a fist had landed a heavy blow right on his nose. Willoughby landed on his backside on the balcony while Marianne let out a gasp of surprise and relief. Christopher had found her! Brandon had some moments earlier decided he had seen and talked to everyone he should so as not to be disrespectful, and had went to find his wife to see if she wanted to head home. It had already been a long day and he did not want to tire her out in her condition. At one of the parlours he had learned from Mrs Jennings that Marianne had gone in search of some fresh air. As he had gone looking for her, he had suddenly seen a face that raised an internal alarm: with a group of people, men and women, stood the lady who used to be known as Miss Grey. Now known by her married name of Mrs Willoughby. But where was he?

Brandon had scanned the room for any sign of Willoughby but to no avail. The prospect of his both his wife and that cad Willoughby both being unaccounted for was too much of a coincidence for Brandon. No, it was not a question of trusting his wife with Willoughby, but knowing Willoughby's character there was no trusting him with Brandon's wife. Brandon's pregnant wife. If that lowlife did anything to upset Marianne in her condition Brandon would not be held accountable for his actions. He had not told Marianne, but had heard from Sir John how Willoughby had been making efforts to discredit the accounts of his past behaviour, claiming that they were simply malicious rumours spread by Mrs Brandon and her friends because they were bitter about the way Willoughby and the Dashwoods had parted company. Brandon had been quite prepared to let these accounts go, to ignore anything and everything that man Willoughby said or did so long as he steered well clear of Brandon and those close to him. But now he could not find his wife and Willoughby was not to be seen either.

Having looked in to two rooms he finally came upon one that had doors open to a balcony. Brandon had made his way to the balcony across the room as swiftly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself, and as he had stepped onto the balcony he had seen a setup that made his blood boil: Willoughby twisting Marianne by the wrists, hurling the most despicable insults at her. The man known for his calm and controlled demeanour had let go of some of his constraints, grabbing Willoughby by the shoulder and landing a heavy punch in the man's face.

As Willoughby sat on the balcony floor, face in shock, one hand holding his bleeding face and looking up at Brandon with genuine fear in his eyes, Brandon leaned over him, taking a firm hold of the little turd's lapel.

"You ability to learn from your mistakes seems particularly poor, Willoughby," Brandon said in a low and menacing voice.

"Make no mistake, if you approach my wife again – no if you as much as look at her again – I will take you out on another early morning outing and you can rest assured the mercy you were shown last time will not be repeated," Brandon continued. Marianne was still upset, but was able to observe this encounter from her corner. Willoughby looked like a scared little boy, whimpering into his hand as he sat on the floor and practically shook under Brandon's stare. Christopher always had strong presence wherever he was, but right now his presence weighed over Willoughby so heavily it seemed to crush the younger man. What a difference between a man and a boy. And what a reminder – not necessary but still – to Marianne of how glorious her husband was.

"And let me hear once more about you trying to discredit us, or any of the Dashwoods, Sir John, the Ferrars, or anyone we are associated with regarding your own mistakes and you will not know what hit you. We have not uttered a word about you since your engagement to Miss Grey and have no interest in doing so in the future either. We have our own lives to live and do not wish to waste one moment discussing or even thinking of vermin like you." Brandon finished explaining his position, then raised himself upright again, pulling the younger man up on his feet by his lapel. Pulling him up very easily, Marianne noticed.

"Right now, you will behave like you ought to and stay out here until you can tidy up your face. We are now leaving. When, eventually, you can go back in again you will have tripped and hit your face and that will be the end of this. You will not do or say anything to sully this day for Captain Jackson and his bride. Is that understood?" Brandon dictated his terms. Willoughby's face started to look like a sulking little boy's, but he nodded in agreement. Brandon then shoved him back a step or two and reached to pull his wife to his side.

"You alright dearest?" he asked, taking one of her hands in his and wrapping his other arm around her waist. Marianne nodded. She was now, with him holding her.  
>"Can we just go?" she then asked. Christopher nodded, pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and simply walked her out. They both did their best to compose themselves as they entered the room, and started to walk through making their excuses. No one seemed to query their departure too actively, and Brandon suspected it was out of discreetness. Most people probably knew about the earlier miscarriage and seeing him walk his wife out like this was a signal to let the pregnant woman leave without fuss.<p>

All the while they had to wait for their carriage the Brandons said nothing, but Christopher's hand kept stroking her side ever so gently and discreetly, and the thumb of his other hand caressed the back of her hand. She put her free hand over his and he pulled her as close to his side as he could. Finally the carriage came and the couple climbed in. Marianne managed to keep her tears in until they turned onto the driveway, but then could hold it no longer. Christopher was ready for it and pulled her to his chest.

"Oh God dearest, did he hurt you badly?" he asked. Marianne shook her head.

"No, not very, just grabbed the wrists some, but he said such horrible things. I didn't even realize he was at the reception!" her breathing was heavy and she was so very upset. Brandon did not want her to get too excited and made little calming noises as he stroked her cheek with one hand and pulled her to his chest tightly with the other.

"Shh, dearest. It's over now, and you mustn't listen to one word that cad has to say. He is nothing to us now."

Then Marianne felt it: like her insides were turning upside down. She let out a gasp and instinctively took her hands to where she felt the movement. Christopher did not miss a clue and dread filled his heart that same second.

"Darling, are you alright?"

Marianne only managed to moan a little. This was the strongest movement she had ever felt and it really did feel like her insides were being re-arranged. She could see Christopher's worry growing, but it took her a moment before she could catch her breath and say something.

"I think it's ok, darling," she said, very much believing it. This was strong, but something about it told her it was nothing to worry about. The baby was making his (or her!) presence known. Perhaps protesting about the bad way his mother had just been treated. Marianne grabbed Christopher's hand and placed it on her belly where the movements were still so strong.

"It's ok, I don't think this is anything to worry about" she repeated and looked at her husband in the eyes. His expressions were a journey worth following. The worry turned to curiosity, then amazement bordering on awe, then joy. There had been the little ripples of movement he had managed to feel before, but this was so much more. His baby, their baby, was moving about, kicking and punching in there. Marianne saw tear build up in Christopher's eyes, but he never averted his gaze from hers. She reached her hand to cup his cheek and pulled him closer for a deep kiss.

"If you didn't know it by now, I love you Christopher Brandon. More than I know how to say and with everything that I am."


	9. Chapter 9

Marianne had been watching over her sleeping nephew, admiring the amazing miniature features of his little face, his little hands and the funny faces he pulled in his sleep while Elinor and Edward were enjoying a rare moment on their own by having a little walk on Delaford grounds. A lovely, sunny afternoon with not a cloud on the sky, Christopher was out on his horse with one of his game keepers and Mrs Dobson was spoiling Marianne by making sure she was never too far from a refreshing cup of tea or other forms of sustenance. The whole household seemed to be on their toes about the approaching due date – it had to happen soon! And on this sunny afternoon with little sleeping George Ferrars for company Marianne felt the first twinge of what had to be the start of the IT they were all waiting for.

Except with the active exercise regime her little one had been on lately Marianne's initial reaction to the twinge was to ignore it. The baby was doing his (or her) summersaults in there again and would calm down in a little while for sure. It was weeks since the wedding where that ghastly Mr Willoughby had approached her and when the baby really had protested about his mother's agitation. Christopher had been so worried that Marianne was so upset by it all that the baby might be at risk. It had taken most of the carriage ride back to Delaford from the wedding reception to convince her husband that the baby was simply moving more than before and nothing bad was going to happen. Well, by the end of the ride she had actually managed to convince her husband that all was very normal and that he should treat and handle her as he would normally. Her sister had let Marianne understand that a woman's emotional and physical needs could reach new highs at a certain point of a pregnancy, and Marianne had discovered this to be true. She couldn't wait for them to get to the privacy of their bedchamber that night to show Christopher how he made her feel.

It still made Marianne both chuckle and shiver slightly when she remembered Christopher growling his threat to Willoughby on that balcony. She was the one being defended and even her neck hairs had stood on end. People who did not know Colonel Brandon much assumed he was a bit of a boring and reserved type severely lacking in social skills and personality, but those who had had a chance to spend any time with him had quickly learned he was able to carry an intelligent and meaningful conversation on a number of topics, and he was an extremely polite, considerate and loyal friend. What he didn't do was push himself to the centre forward in social situations but preferred to have those conversations in more private settings and when he helped people out you'd normally only find out about it much later. The man did good by stealth. And what came to lacking personality, that night on the balcony had simply been yet another demonstration of what the man's presence was like when he allowed it to be seen. What woman could keep her hands off a husband like that?

After a few more twinges, gradually growing such that it was beginning to be impossible to ignore them, Marianne had to admit there was more going on than a simple baby exercise hour. She was just about to call Mrs Dobson when she realized she was sitting in a puddle. For a fraction of a second Marianne was frightened, but then remembered having this conversation with her sister as well: all part of the process. Water would break, and it was time to give birth.

"Mrs Dobson!" Marianne called out. Christopher had drilled the staff like they were his army regiment over what everyone was to do when the baby came. Marianne need only alert Mrs Dobson and she expected the household to start working like finely tuned machinery.

She was not wrong. Mrs Dobson had heard from the tone of Marianne's voice that this was not a regular call and rushed out.

"Mrs Dobson, it appears it is now time – I'm afraid I've created a bit of a puddle here." Marianne explained and gave a small apologetic grin. Mrs Dobson let out a gasp and it took her a second or two to get the programme running: find someone to look after the Ferrars' boy, send a lad for the midwife and the doctor (the Colonel was not leaving anything to chance), get Mrs Brandon upstairs and have the maids bring all the towels and sheets and start heating some water as instructed. Oh, and send someone else to find Brandon himself. He would never forgive his staff if they forgot to get him here on time!

Marianne was soon whisked upstairs where she found herself on the bed in a simple nightgown. The cramps started to be regular and grew more intense every time. By the time Elinor and Edward had returned to the house (they hadn't been very far and one of the footmen had found them quite quickly) Marianne couldn't quite keep quiet anymore when a cramp came. Elinor had checked on her sister, then gone to feed her own boy and left him with his father so that she could help Marianne. Colonel Brandon had been found soon after and he rode back to the house like a man possessed. He had come to the bedchamber as well and placed himself on the bed by Marianne's shoulder so that she could lean against him while he stroked her brow with one hand and held her hand in the other. She was beginning to sweat and her moans when the cramps came brought dread into Christopher's heart. He hated to see her in agony – what if something went wrong?

Again it seemed like forever, but the midwife had been located and brought to the house quite quickly. Brandon's concerned questions over Marianne's state and condition very soon started to irritate the no-nonsense lady and when the doctor arrived soon after the two decided it best to jettison the worried husband and father-to-be from the room. Certainly, Mrs Brandon seemed to want him there, but to the professionals it really felt like they had two patients in the room.

"It's ok Christopher, I'll come for you the moment the baby comes. Edward wasn't allowed in either." Elinor tried to reassure the visibly nervous Colonel.

Out in the hallway, Christopher could do nothing but pace the floor feeling as thought his heart was about to burst and that he was simply not able to breath. On one hand he was terrified: things could still be wrong. To lose that first baby had been a hard blow for both of them but Christopher's added pain had been over the fear that he'd lose not only the baby but his wife as well. On the other hand his heart was bursting with excitement for it was finally time. He would be a father and the small, delicate new life that was the product of the love between himself and Marianne would finally be here. His agitation grew every time he heard Marianne's wail from the other room. Gods she was in agony and he could do nothing about it.

"It sounds like everything is going just fine" he then heard someone offer some reassurance. Edward Ferrars had come upstairs having left little George with a maid for a while. It was probably soon for the by to eat again and one reason for Edward to venture up was to try and see how far things were along.

"Really? Sounds rather frightening to me…" Brandon muttered in reply. Ferrars smiled.

"Really. I also was convinced something absolutely awful was taking place when George was born, but I was then told that so long as you hear these sounds everything is going to plan. It's not easy, for sure, but it is something we just have to accept. It will turn out for the best, I'm sure." Edward explained. He himself had been a nervous wreck waiting for George to make his appearance, hearing the cries Elinor made in pain.

"I just wish I could take her pain," Brandon said and visibly shuddered when a particularly strong scream of agony was heard from the room. He rushed to the door, placing his palms flat against it in a vain attempt of being just that much closer to his dear wife.

And then he heard it, the first rather annoyed and irritated wail from a baby! Like someone who was quite angry for having been interrupted from somewhere much nicer. Almost that moment the door opened and Elinor, looking a bit dishevelled, was there to call Brandon in.

"Christopher, come meet your daughter," is all Elinor had time to say as she grabbed her brother in law by the wrist and pulled him in.

Inside, the midwife had just wrapped a tiny, pink and wrinkly looking little creature into a white sheet and a blanket and was placing the baby onto Marianne's expecting arms. Poor Marianne was covered in sweat, her face glowing red and hair all over the place and slapped wet against her forehead. Christopher had never seen anything so beautiful. He paid no attention to Mrs Dobson and the midwife now doing what they could to clean Marianne up and changing the sheets she was on to dry and clean ones. Christopher simply crashed onto his knees by the bed never taking his eyes off Marianne and the baby.

"Dearest… " was all he managed to whisper. Marianne was a little tearful but also smiling, even laughing a little.

"Christopher, we have a little girl. We have a daughter!" she was still utterly amazed by it all herself. The pain had somehow receded to the background, but not fully forgotten.

"Dear God, I'm so happy that you are alright. And the baby as well." He said. Marianne swallowed. Christopher moved himself onto the bed again, much like he had held her before so that he could see the baby's face better. A wrinkly little pink monkey she was but she could not be more beautiful to her parents.

"What are you thinking about, father?" Marianne then asked Christopher quietly, having noticed he seemed entirely mesmerized by their little baby girl. He smiled that private, almost shy smile of his.

"Is she really ours? You have given me a gift that can never compare to anything else in the world and I don't know how to tell you just how full of joy my heart is right now." His words came out quietly, spoken softly, and he turned to look at his wife. She lifted her chin up towards him and his need was the same: he leaned down and gently kissed Marianne on the lips. When they parted and looked at their little girl again they found her fast asleep, snuggled so close and warm to her mother's chest.

"Oh little Elinor Violet, know that you are loved," Christopher then whispered to his daughter.


End file.
